


Of Red Carnations and Poetry

by vit_et_aime



Category: Les Misérables (2012), Les Misérables - All Media Types, Les Misérables - Schönberg/Boublil, Les Misérables - Victor Hugo
Genre: (kind of), AU, Coffee Shop, Fluff, M/M, Mordern!AU, a shit load of fluff, background pairings - Freeform, courf and jehan are main though, oh and sassy eponine, oh jesus i'm terrible at tagging, rating may go up later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-25
Updated: 2013-02-25
Packaged: 2017-12-03 15:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/699647
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vit_et_aime/pseuds/vit_et_aime
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'The small coffee shop down the street is Jehan's favourite place to write. It's surrounded by old buildings and the smell of tea and books. He likes to write his poetry there.<br/>He likes the soft scratch of his fountain pen against the paper of his notebook and the quiet sounds of coffee being stirred in the small kitchen behind the counter and now he has decided he likes the man who has just come through the door, rain soaked and smiling.'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Red Carnations and Poetry

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fic on this website and my first fic in the fandom so please be kind.  
> If you want anything specific to happen in this story then I'll gladly add it, just leave a comment.  
> (I hope you like fluff)

The small coffee shop down the street is Jehan's favourite place to write. It's surrounded by old buildings and the smell of tea and books. He likes to write his poetry there.  
He likes the soft scratch of his fountain pen against the paper of his notebook and the quiet sounds of coffee being stirred in the small kitchen behind the counter and now he has decided he likes the man who has just come through the door, rain soaked and smiling.  
The man caught his eye and his smile widened.  
Jehan ducked his head quickly, his eyes going back to the poetry he currently had spread over the table. He tried to ignore the blush that was now colouring his cheeks.  
The man breezed past Jehan's tables and went to the counter.  
Jehan refused to look up for fear of turning as red as the carnation that was braided in his hair.  
A voice that flowed like the poetry he longed to create spoke then.  
“Hi, could I have two lattes, please? And could you bring them over to table 5.”  
Jehan snuck a glance.  
The girl behind the counter nodded.  
“Thank you,”  
There was a smile in his voice.  
Jehan looked back at his notebook .  
Two lattes?  
He sighed.  
There must be a girl meeting him here.  
God, he felt like an idiot.  
He shifted slightly and his pen rolled from it's place on the table.  
He managed to catch it before it fell off the edge and he picked it up.  
A shiny gold number was etched into the table, partially covered by paper.  
Number 5.  
Before he had a chance to panic the chair opposite him was pulled back.  
“Do you mind?”  
Jehan felt his head shake automatically and the man sat.  
“I'm Courfeyrac,”  
Courfeyrac.  
Even his name was beautiful.  
He blinked and realised that Courfeyrac had his hand held out across the table and was looking quizzically at Jehan with a slight tilt to his head.  
Oh right.  
Jehan took the hand and shook it lightly.  
“Jean Prouvaire. But everyone calls me Jehan.”  
Courfeyrac smiled another blinding smile before turning to the waiter who had brought their drinks over.  
“I hope you don't mind... You looked like you needed a drink,” Courfeyrac explained, taking the drinks from the tray and thanking the waiter.  
Jehan nodded, speechless.  
“What were you writing?”  
Jehan remembered the sheets of poetry that were scattered all over the table.  
Courfeyrac smiled and Jehan blushed.  
“Poetry,”  
Great. A one worded answer. How wonderfully intelligent.  
“Love is enough: though the world be a-waning,  
And the woods have no voice but the voice of complaining,  
Though the skies be too dark for dim eyes to discover  
The gold-cups and daisies fair blooming thereunder,  
Though the hills be held shadows, and the sea a dark wonder,  
And this day draw a veil over all deeds passed over,  
Yet their hands shall not tremble, their feet shall not falter:  
The void shall not weary, the fear shall not alter  
These lips and these eyes of the loved and the lover.”  
Jehan's jaw dropped.  
“How do you know that?”  
Courfeyrac shrugged.  
“I joined a poetry club a while back. It didn't really interest me so I left, funnily enough I remembered that poem,”  
And it was that moment that Jehan officially fell for Courfeyrac.

* * *  
“Stop pacing, he'll be here soon,”  
Jehan stopped briefly. He glanced at the clock and frowned.  
“He's fifteen minutes late!”  
Eponine grinned from behind the counter.  
“Fashionably late, darling,”  
Jehan scowled and twirled his hair around his fingers, something he recently found himself doing when he was nervous.  
Then the door dinged and a very ruffled looking Courfeyrac came in with a Starbucks in his hand.  
“You realise we sell coffee here, right?”  
“Eponine!” Jehan exclaimed, with a horrified look on his face.  
But Courfeyrac was laughing and nodding.  
“You must be Eponine,” He said. “I know you do, but I always get the same coffee everyday, it's kind of a routine.”  
Eponine flashed Jehan a not so subtle thumbs up to let him know she approved.  
To his disappointment he blushed.  
“The boys are upstairs,” she said. “I'll be up when I finish my shift,”  
Jehan nodded and took Courfeyrac's arm.  
“Enjolras has the meetings for our protests up here,” He explained.  
“I can't wait to meet everyone,” Courfeyrac replied, another smile lighting up his face.  
Ever since the day they met they stayed close, constantly texting and meeting for coffee.  
It was when Jehan started doubting what they had was completely platonic that it was time to introduce him to the rest of the group.  
He pushed open the door and was immediately surrounded.  
Everyone had introduced themselves and made small talk before going back to what they had been doing previously. (Combeferre was sitting with Feuilly in the corner talking quietly, Grantaire was drinking from a wine bottle while discussing animatedly with Enjolras, Marius was staring at his phone, most likely waiting for Cosette to text and Joly was inspecting his arm, probably looking for signs of a fatal rash.  
Courfeyrac looked around in wonder.  
Jehan shifted nervously.  
“Um, we could go out if you want,”  
But Courfeyrac shook his head.  
“No, no,” He said, taking Jehan's hand in his. “This is perfect,”  
Jehan felt a happiness bubble up in his chest. It was something he hadn't felt in a long time.  
“Oh, I forgot!” Courfeyrac suddenly said, rummaging around in his pocket. “Here.”  
In his hand was a beautiful red carnation, just like the one he had been wearing in his hair the day they met.  
“Can I?”  
Jehan nodded and Courfeyrac leant forward to braid the flower into his hair.  
“Beautiful,” He whispered.  
Just then Eponine decided to bound in.  
They sprang apart and she paused.  
“Wow, you guys need me to open a window? It's getting pretty hot in here,”  
Grantaire snorted across the room, earning a light slap to the shoulder from Enjolras.  
“Hey, Courf! Get over here, I need your opinion on something,” Combeferre called from the corner.  
Jehan smiled as he watched Courfeyrac's face light up at the use of a nickname.  
He was going to fit in perfectly.

* * *

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so a lot could happen with this story. Ideas would be really helpful(:  
> Also, if you want a focus on another pairing I will definitely do it. (I ship practically everyone together)  
> Also the poem Courfeyrac recites to Jehan is 'Love is Enough' by William Morris.
> 
> I had a lot of fun writing this so I hope you enjoy it ~


End file.
